Life takes unexpected turns. Mine, most recently, has led me northwest, into the Wisconsin woods. I’m still in Chicago at least once a week for work meetings and events. But my home is here now. And this is the place, I hope, where my boys will grow up. I believed, going in to this latest adventure, that it was the right thing for my kids: great public schools, room to play, nature at our doorstep, a better quality of life all around. I wasn’t sure, though, that the rural life would be a good thing for me. I thought, in fact, that I was making a sacrifice for my family. Instead, though, I am already falling in love with the beauty of this place. I am, unexpectedly, home.
The recent attacks in Kenya weigh heavily on my mind. Partly because the “bad guys” are the same ones I conjured up in my novel. But, moreover, because I once judged the people who were the attack’s victims.